He unlocked it and examined the contents, but said nothing about
them.

'Is there anything for me?' I asked.

'No.'

He opened the newspaper and began to read.

'You'd better take your coffee,' suggested I; 'it will be cold again.'

'You may go,' said he, 'if you've done; I don't want you.'

I rose and withdrew to the next room, wondering if we were to have
another such miserable day as yesterday, and wishing intensely for an end
of these mutually inflicted torments. Shortly after I heard him ring the
bell and give some orders about his wardrobe that sounded as if he
meditated a long journey. He then sent for the coachman, and I heard
something about the carriage and the horses, and London, and seven
o'clock to-morrow morning, that startled and disturbed me not a little.

'I must not let him go to London, whatever comes of it,' said I to
myself; 'he will run into all kinds of mischief, and I shall be the cause
of it. But the question is, How am I to alter his purpose? Well, I will
wait awhile, and see if he mentions it.'

I waited most anxiously, from hour to hour; but not a word was spoken, on
that or any other subject, to me. He whistled and talked to his dogs,
and wandered from room to room, much the same as on the previous day. At
last I began to think I must introduce the subject myself, and was
pondering how to bring it about, when John unwittingly came to my relief
with the following message from the coachman:

'Please, sir, Richard says one of the horses has got a very bad cold, and
he thinks, sir, if you could make it convenient to go the day after
to-morrow, instead of to-morrow, he could physic it to-day, so as--'

'Confound his impudence!' interjected the master.

'Please, sir, he says it would be a deal better if you could,' persisted
John, 'for he hopes there'll be a change in the weather shortly, and he
says it's not likely, when a horse is so bad with a cold, and physicked
and all--'

'Devil take the horse!' cried the gentleman. 'Well, tell him I'll think
about it,' he added, after a moment's reflection. He cast a searching
glance at me, as the servant withdrew, expecting to see some token of
deep astonishment and alarm; but, being previously prepared, I preserved
an aspect of stoical indifference. His countenance fell as he met my
steady gaze, and he turned away in very obvious disappointment, and
walked up to the fire-place, where he stood in an attitude of undisguised
dejectio